Dog Days

A quick newsflash...there are still far too many days until Winter's return. It's no secret that I hate summer. Summer is hot, sunny, and itchy. I much prefer the crisp freshness of winter with its shortened days, lack of heat, and hibernating bugs. 

I always feel more creative in winter. The sweltering temperatures make it hard for me to focus, hard to get things done, and hard to relax. The only respite is a dip in a pool and late night ice cream. Otherwise, summer is fairly dumb. So if you're hearing my plea, please returner a little sooner, dear Winter. 

The Death of Summer

As the leaves begin to change outside my window and the graying skies bring the welcomed cool weather of autumn and the sound of school buses rolls through morning, I find myself feeling thankful once again that summer is dying. 

Last week, I did something I hadn't done in twenty years...I said goodbye to summer by spending a few days at the Jersey Shore. As a kid, I spent many weekends out of every summer in Wildwood, trekking across the enormous beach by day and the endless neon boardwalk of rides at night. Nostalgia and circumstance brought me back for a three day stay with the Missus, only to find not much has changed there in my absence. 

Soaking up the crowds of wide-eyed kids, over sized stuffed animal prizes, and the never ending scent of funnel cake, french fries and the promise of soft serve ice cream, I was reminded of the magic of certain places at certain times. They say you can never be a kid again, but there are moments when you can visit childhood and those are vacations well spent. Memory is the lifeblood of writing and sometimes it's good to stir up long forgotten ones.